


Lilacs and Sunshine

by ratboyross



Category: Panic! at the Disco
Genre: 90s, Alternate Universe - Historical, F/M, M/M, Ryden, Rydon, Summer Romance, Summer Vacation, Sweden - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-11
Updated: 2020-05-11
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:14:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23954440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ratboyross/pseuds/ratboyross
Summary: I suck at writing first chapters so bear with me.This is not beta-ed by anyone yet so there will probably be a lot of mistakes hiding in there.Hope you enjoy!
Relationships: Audrey Kitching/Brendon Urie, Brendon Urie/Jac Vanek, Ryan Ross/Brendon Urie, Ryan Ross/Jac Vanek
Comments: 1
Kudos: 3





	Lilacs and Sunshine

**Author's Note:**

> I suck at writing first chapters so bear with me.  
> This is not beta-ed by anyone yet so there will probably be a lot of mistakes hiding in there.  
> Hope you enjoy!

I easily get carsick, and this doesn't fucking help me in any way.

The dark blue rental car bobs up and down the dirt road, making the several suitcases and backpacks tumble around in the back trunk. Dad is placed behind the wheel and his trophy wife Carolynn is right beside him, as always. They don’t talk at all, they just keep their blank stares on the road ahead of them. We’re all exhausted, the jetlag is brutal and we are now nine hours ahead our internal clocks. Sleep would be the best solution, but my queasy stomach says otherwise. The only thing breaking the deadly silence is the loud banging of the gravel landing on the roof of the vehicle. 

“How long til’ we get there?” The question hangs in the air like a big question mark. 

“About fifteen minutes,” his answer comes out as final. “Maybe twenty.”

I return my gaze at the pine trees rushing by me.

Should I open the window? - Stick my head out and hope that one car decides to drive a little _too_ close? 

Nah, too much effort. 

I look over at my stepmother, she’s wearing her strawberry blonde hair in a sloppy ponytail. My dad’s got taste at least, even though she’s way out of his league. She’s nice, really nice, and she smiles a lot. 

“We’re here.” My father announces sternly.

Carolynn smiles at me apologetically before quickly stepping out of the car, soon joining my father in unloading the luggage. With my dead Walkman in hand I do the same, another wave of nausea hitting me the instance I stand up.

I quickly glance over my surroundings, the big red cabin looming over me. It hasn't changed at all, my bike from last year leaning against the toolshed, forgotten and rusted. Before I know it I’m doubling over, the airplane food we ate a few hours ago resurfacing all over the overgrown grass. This gives me a sour look from my father, like the sour taste of bile now residing in my mouth. When I can take a breath without feeling like my stomach will turn inside out my bags are already waiting for me on the ground. Perhaps if somebody cared they would ask me if I was alright. 

My muffled “Yeah, yeah, I’ll clean it up.” Answers a command that hasn’t even been said as I carry my things toward the building. 

The room I find myself in hits me with the smell of childhood, nostalgia and mold. Old band posters from a few years ago and some family pictures hang on the warped wallpaper, reminding me that this is still the very place where my youth resides. The birch floorboards creak under my feet and I kind of feel at peace for a moment, the hectic traveling just a few hours earlier feeling distant and worth it. It’s the travelers reward. And what the hell is that really? It’s the feeling of pure bliss before everything crumbles, the calm before the storm, and I will dwell in this sweet warmth as long as I possibly can.

I snap out of it as soon as I hear familiar heavy footsteps trudge up the way too steep staircase. The ugly truth that the threat still exist in the day ruins my golden moment. With a sigh I open my suitcase and start unpacking. After my clothes have been folded and put in their designated places, I look back over to the wall. I haven’t had the heart to take them down yet, but it’s different now, I’ve moved on. I keep on living, and every fall keeps on coming, I can’t stop that even if I wanted to. With shaking hands I slowly start to reach toward the pict-

Carolynn's voice breaks the complete silence in the old house, her call coming from the downstairs living room. Grudgingly I start to head out of my dusty room. 

Her dark brown eyes meet mine as soon as she sees me come down from the stairs. Jac’s blonde hair flows around her shoulders beautifully and I’m reminded how much I’ve missed her. My stepmother looks at us from the dining room, a cigarette placed snugly between her smirking lips. Jac just stands there and smiles at me with her trademark smile. My partner in crime.

“Ryan,” She calmly says before walking over and embracing me in a tight hug.

***

“So- “ She jumps down from the old and overgrown stone fence she was balancing on earlier. “What have I missed?” 

She sits down next to me like she’s encouraging me to answer her more truthfully. “Honestly? Not a lot.” I grin back at her.

“Almost sounds like you’ve been more bored than me,” She nudges me in the arm. “I have no-one to get in trouble with when you’re gone you know!”

I remember when she told me that the first time, when we were barely ten. It didn’t even cross my mind that maybe the perfect experience I have with this place isn’t universal. Jac lives here all year ‘round, I don’t.

Her parents fell in love on a cruise ship somewhere and her mother decided to abandon her old life in Georgia, following Jac’s dad home and starting a family here. Her fiance back in the States later remarried after he realized that she would never come back. He was right. 

“What’s new here then? Anything?” I cringe at the last part of the sentence, waiting for Jac’s reaction. My body loosens up as soon as she lets out a small giggle.

“Well - there’s the new shoe store replacing Old Simon’s bakery,” This takes me genuinely by surprise. The bakery has been a staple here since long before I started spending every summer here. I guess Jac recognizes this. “Yeah, they just decided to sell the shop from nowhere.”

She’s talking quickly, her accent having a hard time catching up. “ _And_ Mr. Wilson plus family moved away just after you left,”

“Oh, why?” 

“Bankruptcy,” She says.

“That sucks! I liked Bre- ”

“Shit! I forgot!” She interrupts. “The old rectory has been demolished.” I hate it when she does that. When you separate from people like this you start to glorify them in their absence, their flaws become cute quirks until you reunite, and you realize they weren't that perfect to begin with. 

It takes me a while to digest what she just said. “What?!” 

“Yeah, they just finished a new building in its place about two months ago.” She says with a sigh.

I give her a suspicious look. “You must be kidding me.”

“No, really - I heard the people who bought the place are crazy rich.”

“Fuck,” 

“I second that,”

And she gives me that dazzling smile that makes everything seem a little less shitty. I feel her head leaning on my shoulder.

“I really missed you this time,” Her legs dangle from the stone fence, her blue plaid dress billowing up and down with every movement. “I really, really did.”

I want to mock her slight accent, but I don’t want to ruin the moment. “Ditto,” 

We both fall quiet, but this silence is comfortable and warm. “Want me to walk you home?”

She beams at me yet again.

“Sure.”

The last rays of today’s sunlight calmly bless our silhouettes as we make our way back home. 

Yeah, this still sucks.

Where the old run-down rectory once stood tall, a white villa now inhabits the spot, peeking through the slightly wooded area. It’s still empty, the pompous people who bought the place haven’t moved in for the season yet. It’s sad, really. Jac and I would sneak out at night when we were kids, jumping over the fence and exploring the abandoned building. We used to have secret gatherings there with people who stopped coming out here years ago.

I’ve missed this place a lot, yet now that I’m finally here I can’t ignore the underlying feeling of dread that chills me to my bones.

If seeing Jac couldn’t fix this, then what will? 

With that thought in mind, I put out the cigarette I’ve been smoking for the past few minutes and step away from the open window. I kick my now empty suitcase in frustration. The pictures hanging on for dear life to the warped wallpaper mocks me. Perfect people with perfect smiles. A pair of eyes which aren’t too different to my own stares me down. With one quick motion I rip off a large strip of the wallpaper. I look at the scrap of paper now placed in my hand, before I let it drop to the floor. I’ll fix it tomorrow. Make it up to her tomorrow.

The consistent commotion of a moving-truck disturbs my already restless sleep. My mouth tastes stale and I think I forgot to put my bed sheets on. In a haze I grab some clean clothes and a towel before walking downstairs finding my father and Carolynn absent. The Cabin lacks the essential feature of plumping, and I desperately need a shower.

I step out into the warm grass, dad must’ve mowed it before I woke up. When I round the corner of the house I can almost make out the light splashing of the ocean over the eternal rumbling. While the actual building isn’t anything in particular, the private beach on the property is quite nice. Most people gather at the campsite about one and a half mile from here to cool off, but you can’t really skinny-dip there without scarring some five year old.

The water is cold under my feet, which makes actually stripping and submerging myself in the ocean a little less appealing than it was two seconds ago. 

I bite my tongue as I slowly wade my way out into the deep blue, my boxers tickling my thighs. The moment the water reaches my navel, I dive under. 

Time stops in place; the chaos next door stops, the cackling of seagulls magically disappear. 

***  
  


“Hey! Ry!” Jac - not so secretly - nudges in the direction of the flower shop across the street.

I shoot her a confused look.

“I think that’s the Urie kid,” She whispers.

My focus shifts to the boy stepping out onto the small plaza. He isn’t facing our way, so I can’t make out anything more than a neatly-cut dark brown hairdo and the dress shirt he’s wearing being tidily tucked into black slacks. He doesn’t stick out like a sore thumb per se, but the simpleness of him make him more noticeable. I take a sip of the orange flavored soda we bought earlier. We have found ourselves here almost every afternoon since I got here a few days ago.

“Who?” I try to sound indifferent, but I already know who she's talking about. They're the fucking jerks ruining my Eden. 

“You know, _The Uries._ ” She’s still looking intently at the dark-haired boy.

“Still don’t know what you’re talking about,” My cigarette bobs up and down in the corner of my mouth as I speak. Jac turns to her friend, away from me, and starts gossiping in swedish with her. They giggle and point, and I can’t avoid feeling left out. I can make out about half of it, but the conversation as a whole gets lost on me.

I need to brush up on my Swedish.

Jac then does the most Jac thing I can think of.

“Hey! Urie!” She’s standing up and waving her arms welcoming. I just want to disappear.

The Urie kid swings around and stares disoriented at our table. Jac just motions him to our table with a warm smile. He points at himself questioningly before he quickly jogs over to the café we’re placed at.

“Hi! I’m Jac Vanek,” She turns to the other girl. “This is my friend Audrey,”

The boy in front of us are analyzing the two girls.

“We think you are cute.” Her accent thickens right at that moment, a flirting tactic I’ve witnessed her use way too many times.

“Uh, thanks?” He looks uncomfortable, standing with one hand in front of his eyes to block out the sun, and the other carrying a bunch of neatly cut flowers.

“And your name is?” She drags out the last word.

He smiles into the ground awkwardly before answering.

“Brendon, my name’s Brendon.”

He finally removes his hand from his eyes, the clouds creeping over the afternoon sun for a moment. His eyes are dark but kind, his lips and nose are both quite full-looking. They kind of cancel out each other, making his face look rather symmetrical in a weird way. “I- Me and my parents just moved here for the summer.” 

“Ah, another summer resident!” Jac exclaims. “Where are you from, Brendon?

“A small town in Utah,” He says, his face turning bright red while clutching the bouquet in his arms tighter. “You wouldn’t have heard of it.”

Jac glances at Audrey again for what I guess is approval.  
“Wow, you have come a long way then.” She smiles that warm smile again.

He hums in response.

“Yeah we just got done settling in, the last moving truck just left about an hour ago.” 

So he’s the cause for my demise, great. Jac will prance around him the rest of the summer until he leaves, and when he gets back she won’t be here waiting for him, but in the lap of a new guy. And then he’ll come to me for advice, how he can win her back and so on. It's the same thing every year.

His eyes then meet mine, not that I’ve waited for the moment.

“And you are?” Brendon's free hand reaches out to me, an expensive looking watch adorns his wrist. He actually looks interested in what I have to say.

Introducing myself like this feels childish and way to proper, yet I still take his hand in a firm grip.

“I’m Ryan-”

I can see Jac mocking me from the corner of my eye.

“Thanks, really mature of you.” I snap. She sinks down in her seat again, crossing her arms defensively.

“Right-" He looks uncertain. "I kinda need to head back.”

“Oh!” Jac flies up with her spirits lifted once again. “So sorry for holding you up!”“N-no problem,” Brendon stutters. Jac walks up to him with that trademark smile, then embraces him in a hug that is a little more than friendly, squashing his flowers a bit.

“Welcome to Björkskär, Brendon.” She says simply.

“Thank you.” He salutes, not taking a moment to spare before walking off to wherever he belongs.

“Well wasn’t he just lovely?” Jac asks me, spite lacing her words and I hate her a bit for that.

I give her a mean-spirited grin before standing up from my chair and flicking my cigarette butt to the cobblestone sidewalk, ending the conversation abruptly.

She’ll kick me for that later, but I’m growing tired of her constant drama, and I’m only on day four.


End file.
